


A Broken Hallelujah

by spiderfire



Category: Hallelujah - Leonard Cohen (Song)
Genre: Love Triangles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderfire/pseuds/spiderfire
Summary: Leonard squeezed David’s hand. “Love you,” he murmured.“Love you, too,” David replied, automatically.





	A Broken Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lmizutani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmizutani/gifts).



> I listened to this song about a hundred times before I realized there were three characters in it.

**[Verse 1]**  
_Now I've heard there was a secret chord_  
_That David played, and it pleased the Lord_  
_But you don't really care for music, do you?_  
_It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth_  
_The minor fall, the major lift_  
_The baffled king composing "Hallelujah"_

The Baffled King was at the corner of Broadway and Main. A steady stream of men, some in leather or sequins, descended the half dozen steps to the wooden door and went in. The back wall of the club was a small stage that presided over a much larger dance floor. The stage wasn’t much – a couple of mikes on stands, a few stools. No one was performing. Music pounded out of speaker towers on either side of the stage. The dance floor was full of bodies twisting, contorting and entwining with the beat. One entire side of the room was the bar, with dozens of taps and shelf after shelf of glittering bottles of spirits. Around the dimly lit edges of the room were dozens of battered tables. 

In the corner, as far from the bar and dance floor as possible, two men sat at a table with a single empty beer mug between them. Under the table was Leonard’s guitar case. Leonard, with his neatly trimmed moustache and shaggy hair, leaned across the table, getting his face close to David’s. David hesitated and then kissed him. 

“What’d you think of that set?” Leonard asked. 

“ _Everybody knows_ came out like you wanted,” David said, twiddling with the empty mug. “You got the timing.” David’s long hair hung in his eyes, obscuring his face. 

Leonard looked at David, his brow furrowed. He reached across the table and tucked some of David’s hair behind his ear, his fingers lingering. David flicked his eyes up to meet Leonard’s. Leonard smiled. David’s return smile was brief. “Can we get out of here?” David asked.

Leonard shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “What do you want to do?”

David shook his head and his hair fell back in his eyes. He stood and started towards the door. Leonard followed, his guitar case in hand. Once they were out on the mostly empty late-night street, he said, “David, what’s wrong?”

David stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and walked stiffly next to Leonard. “Can’t you play anywhere nicer?” he said. 

“I got a gig at Danceboutique,” Leonard said. 

David frowned at him. “Somewhere more mainstream,” he said. 

“I’m trying,” Leonard said after a moment. “You know that.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Leonard said, “How is that painting coming? The blue one.”

David shook his head. “It’s shit,” he said. “It’ll never sell.”

Leonard sighed. He snaked his free hand into David’s pocket and came out with David’s hand, their fingers entwined. David did not resist. He leaned towards Leonard as they walked. 

Leonard squeezed David’s hand. “Love you,” he murmured. 

“Love you, too,” David replied, automatically. 

**[Verse 2]**  
_Your faith was strong but you needed proof_  
_You saw her bathing on the roof_  
_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_  
_She tied you to a kitchen chair_  
_She broke your throne and she cut your hair_  
_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_

Leonard perched on a stool, bent over his guitar, his eyes closed as he picked through the song’s bridge. Behind him, the band waited. When the moment came, they erupted in a rush of sound that brought him into the final verse. With a huge grin, he opened his eyes and leaned into the microphone.

It was hard to see the crowd. The stage at Bathsheba’s was brightly lit. The only lights on the audience were specks thrown from glittering mirror balls. He was hot in his black t-shirt and jeans. His hands were sweaty and his fingers kept slipping on the strings. He peered into the lights, trying to find David. David had said he’d come to this one. He’d missed the last several shows but Bathsheba’s was the exact sort of club that David had wanted him to play at. 

All he could make out of the crowd was the front few rows of college kids who pressed themselves up against the edge of the stage - girls with blonde hair thrown carelessly back held red cups in one hand and clean cut boys in the other.

The song ended and Leonard stepped out of the lights to take a drink of water and wipe his hands on his pants. Standing in the wing, out of the glare of the stage lights, he could see the crowd through a gap between the curtain and the edge of the stage. Suddenly, he spotted David. 

David looked out of place in this stylish crowd. His jeans were tattered and he was wearing an old t-shirt from a 5k he had never run. David was standing very close to someone - a woman - wearing a shimmering form fitting dress. She had long hair that cascaded over her shoulders. As Leonard watched, she lifted up her arms, and curled her fingers in David’s long hair. 

Leonard turned away, shaking. The stage manager came up to him. “You are only halfway through your set,” she said. “Get back on stage!”

Leonard took a breath, wiped his hands on his pants, and stepped back into the blinding lights. 

**[Verse 3]**  
_Baby I have been here before_  
_I know this room, I've walked this floor_  
_I used to live alone before I knew you_  
_I've seen your flag on the marble arch_  
_Love is not a victory march_  
_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

Leonard set his suitcase and guitar down and closed the door. He hung his keys up on one of two hooks. The other hook was empty. Dragging his feet, he walked into the gap-toothed living room. A large couch was against the wall, but there were dents in the carpet opposite it. Nails stuck out of an empty wall. A table lamp was placed on the floor, dwarfed by the overstuffed armchair. He flopped down on the couch and pulled out his phone. 

A text from one of his bandmates waited for him. “Guess who I saw at Batty’s?” it read. There were pictures of David and the girl that Leonard now knew was named Delilah. David’s hair was trimmed in a short, masculine cut that brought out his jaw line. He wore a grey suit that complemented Delilah’s blue dress. The suit fit David perfectly. For a long moment, Leonard stared at the pictures of David, with the phone clenched in his hand. 

In one picture, Delilah had him by the hand and she was leading him. In another picture, David had his arms around her waist and she had her arms around his neck, and she was draped against him. The expression on David’s face was unlike anything Leonard had ever seen. 

Finally, Leonard tossed the phone aside and got up. It was long past dinner-time. 

**[Verse 4]**  
_There was a time you let me know_  
_What's really going on below_  
_But now you never show it to me, do you?_  
_And remember when I moved in you_  
_The holy dove was moving too_  
_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_

Leonard sat at the bar of The Baffled King nursing an IPA. A friend of his had played a set earlier and he had come to listen. Once the set was over, he had turned his back to the room. His glass was about half empty when David came and sat down beside him. David looked like he had in the picture Leonard had gotten, months before. His hair was trimmed. He was in a tailored suit. The suit was rumpled and his tie was loosened. He had heard that David was doing graphic design for Delilah’s father’s advertising company. 

“Hello,” David said. 

Leonard turned back to his drink. 

“Are you playing tonight?” David asked. 

“What are you doing here?” Leonard asked.

David waved to the bartender. “Whiskey,” he said. “Beer back.” David waited until his drinks arrived. He tossed the whiskey before he answered Leonard, “I miss you,” he said. 

Leonard glanced at David. “Don’t do this,” he said.

David reached out a hand and laid it on top of Leonard’s. Leonard closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. For a moment, he held his breath, and then he pulled his hand away and looked at David. 

“What are you doing here, David?” he asked again.

David met his eyes for a moment, and then looked away, staring into the distance. “I miss you,” he said again. “I wanted to see you.”

“What about Delilah? Does she know you are here?”

David looked away. 

“Figures,” Leonard said, getting up. He started to walk away. 

“Leonard,” David said.

Leonard stopped and turned towards David. They locked eyes. “You want babies and a white-fucking-picket fence. Go home,” Leonard said.

David stood and took a step towards Leonard. “Please,” David said, his voice cracking. “I need you.” 

Leonard took a breath. He took a step toward David, and then another. Standing close, he lifted a shaking hand and touched David’s jawline with his calloused fingertips. He closed his eyes again and inhaled. “God,” he whispered. 

David leaned closer to Leonard until their lips touched. They gripped the backs of each other’s heads and pressed close. When they broke, breathless, Leonard said, “Let’s get out of here.”

**[Verse 5]**  
_You say I took the name in vain_  
_I don't even know the name_  
_But if I did, well really, what's it to you?_  
_There's a blaze of light in every word_  
_It doesn't matter which you heard_  
_The holy or the broken Hallelujah_

David came to Leonard on Tuesdays, when Delilah had book group with the girls, and on first Fridays, when her aerobics group did TGIF. Every time Leonard opened the door, David went straight for the liquor shelf in the kitchen. He poured himself a generous shot of rye and downed it in one gulp.

Once, Leonard had poured the shot for David and met him at the door with the glass in hand, but David had pushed him away angrily. “Stop it!” David had shouted. “You are not some fifties housewife!” After that, Leonard just watched this little ritual, and waited for David to be ready. 

Another time, David had not shown up. Worried, he had called David’s phone. A woman’s voice had answered and he had hung up without saying anything. The next day, David had called him. “Don’t do that again,” he had said. “Not ever, do you understand?”

The sex they shared was only sometimes tender. 

After, Leonard lay in bed, tangled in the sheets, and watched as David showered and dressed. It was in those half-dressed moments, before David re-armored, that they talked. 

One time Leonard said, “I saw a poster at the bus stop for a cruise ship. The ocean, the sky, it was gorgeous. Was it yours? I thought of you when I saw it.”

David grinned at him, “I finally found a use for that blue monstrosity. My boss liked it. The company liked it.”

“What’s it like?” Leonard had asked. “Making art for a boss?”

David shrugged, “There’s always a boss, Leonard. I always had to sell the shit. I like the regular paycheck, though.” Leonard looked at him. “What’s it like for you?” David continued, “Going on tour? Selling records? That must be something else.”

Leonard flopped dramatically on his back. “Exhausting. It is exhausting.”

Another time Leonard said, “Your birthday is coming up.”

David laughed. “Happens every year.”

“Do you have plans?”

David shrugged. “Delilah is planning something.”

Leonard frowned. “But you hate surprises. You were so mad at me when I got you those tickets to _Rent_.” 

David shook his head. “It’s different now that I have a normal job. And,” he turned away as he pulled his shirt on, “I can’t stop Delilah.”

Leonard rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. 

And another time when Leonard said, “Does Delilah…” but David put his hand over Leonard’s lips. “Stop,” he whispered. “Please. I’m here. With you.” And Leonard stopped and watched David dress in silence.

And then there was the night when David skipped the rye and dove straight into Leonard’s arms before the door was even shut. “What is going on?” Leonard asked as David tore at his clothes. David answered with a smothering kiss and Leonard gave himself over to the moment. When they were done, Leonard kissed tears from David’s cheeks and they lay in entwined silence for a long time. 

After that night, David did not come back. 

**[Verse 6]**  
_Maybe there's a God above_  
_But all I've ever learned from love_  
_Was how to shoot at somebody who outdrew you_  
_And it's not a cry that you hear at night_  
_It's not somebody who's seen the light_  
_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

After a show one night, Leonard lounged in the battered green room of a club he had never before played, in a city he had never before visited. He was drinking some concoction that the bartender had sent him. He had a contented, relaxed buzz. 

The set had gone well. Tomorrow they would be off to another city. He leaned back and stared at the blotchy, yellowed ceiling. 

There was a scuffle at the door. Leonard recognized the club manager’s voice. “Please, sir. You can’t go in there!” but the door opened anyway. David burst in, with the manager right behind him. “I’m sorry, sir,” the manager said.

Leonard stood. David’s clothes were rumpled, his eyes bloodshot and his face was covered in stubble. He looked as if he had not slept in days. The manager had David by the arm. 

“It’s okay,” Leonard said the manager. “He can stay.”

“Are you sure?” the manager asked. 

Leonard nodded. “Yeah,” he said. 

The manager looked from Leonard to David and back, and then withdrew and closed the door. 

Leonard stared at David. David’s hands were trembling. “You look like shit. What are you doing here?” he asked. 

David opened his mouth and shut it. He looked away from Leonard, glancing around the room. “I…” he said. 

“I waited,” Leonard said. “Two weeks. You didn’t come. I called, even though I promised I wouldn’t. No answer. Another month. Nothing.”

David balled his hands into fists. “I…” he said again.

Leonard took a step towards David and David took a step back. “I can’t do this anymore,” Leonard said. “I love you, more than anything. You can’t keep coming and going like this. It’s not fair. It’s killing me.”

“Delilah’s pregnant,” David said.

Leonard stared at David, his mouth open. Abruptly he sat down. “Oh,” he said. 

“Yeah,” David said. 

Leonard looked at David. “Congratulations?”

David sat down next to Leonard, falling hard into the cushions. “She told me I had to stop seeing you.”

“You told her?”

David shook his head. “No,” he said. “She just knew.”

Leonard laughed a little and flopped back. “Of course she did,” he said. After a moment he said, “When’s she due?” 

David shook his head. “Around Thanksgiving, I think.”

Leonard nodded and then took a breath. “You never answered my question,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

David shook his head again. “I…”

“You here to dump me? Or fuck? Because you sure as hell didn’t travel a thousand miles to tell me you knocked your girlfriend up.” 

“God! Why do you make this so hard?”

Leonard looked at David, his lips in a tight line, his brow furrowed. “What do you want, David?” 

David buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know,” he said. “I want her. But when I am with her, all I can think of is you. The way you make me feel. Loved. Whole. Complete.” 

Leonard took a breath and then another. “I don’t think that is going to work,” he said. “It’s not going to work for her, and it sure as hell is not going to work for me.”

“I know,” David said miserably. 

They sat next to each other. Leonard stared across the room. David held his face in his hands. Finally, Leonard slid to his knees in front of David and took David’s hands in his own. Leaning in, he placed a tender, dry kiss on David’s lips. “I’m going to miss you,” he said. 

**[Verse 7]**  
_I did my best, it wasn't much_  
_I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch_  
_I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you_  
_And even though it all went wrong_  
_I'll stand before the Lord of Song_  
_With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah_

Leonard crouched in front of the slab of polished granite. At the right angle, he could see a ghostly reflection of his face in the stone, the image interrupted by the letters that were cut into the mirror-like surface. When he exhaled, his breath momentarily fogged the surface, obscuring his image. Just as rapidly, the condensation dissipated. 

He wore soft, thin leather gloves that clung to his fingers like a second skin. Using his teeth, he tugged at one finger at a time of the glove on his right hand, until it came loose. He tucked it in his pocket. He ran his fingers along the smooth granite, letting their calloused tips dip into each of the letters. In his other hand, he held a bunch of blue carnations. They were hideous, but when he had seen them, he had thought of David. 

With a sigh, he left the flowers on the ground and stood. As he turned to go, he saw Delilah pushing a big-wheeled stroller across the crunchy grass. She was almost unrecognizable, as if the life had been sucked from her. Her hair hung in limp clumps from under a shapeless knit cap. Her face was lined and un-made-up. 

“Hello,” she said to him. 

“Hi,” he said, glancing at the sleeping baby in the carriage. He always found it baffling when people said that a baby looked like one parent or the other. This baby looked like all babies: shapeless, lumpy potential. 

“You weren’t at the funeral,” she said. It was not a question. He actually had been, in the back, but that hardly mattered. “Did you know David?”

Leonard looked back at the granite slab. “Somewhat,” he said. 

Together they stood in silence, each caught in their own thoughts. After a while, she said, “What’s your name?” 

Leonard studied her, wondering what she knew. “Leonard,” he offered. 

“That’s funny,” Delilah said. She gave the stroller a little push. “His name’s Leonard. David wanted it. We’re calling him Leo.” Her voice faded as she spoke. She looked at him, her eyes widening. “Oh,” she said.

Leonard stared at the baby. “I am so sorry for your loss,” he whispered. 

Delilah extended a hand towards him. Leonard looked her hand, encased in a fluffy mitten, and then looked at her face. Her lips were pressed together and her eyes were glimmering with tears. He realized he had not put the his glove back on and his fingers were freezing. Her mitten was soft and warm when it cupped his fingers. 

Standing together, they stared at the tombstone and did not speak.

**Author's Note:**

> This Jukebox Song comes with its own soundtrack. 
> 
> [Hallelujah](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttEMYvpoR-k), by Leonard Cohen is of course the fandom. [This is a really, really cool site that picks apart the lyrics like woah.](https://genius.com/2031942)
> 
> [Hit me with your best shot](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=serV18MirGg) \- Pat Benetar was Leonard's song.  
> [Two out of three aint bad](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waLzM9ECEP8) \- Meatloaf was David's  
> and  
> [You don't bring me flowers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-34p-o7D6EQ) \- Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand is for both of them 
> 
> Poor Delilah's song is [I can't make you love me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOzMGYCTn-Q) \- Bonnie Raitt
> 
> And, if that assortment of songs does not date this author, I don't know what else would!


End file.
